Toffee
by Liebling
Summary: ‘It wasn’t a fairytale type of thing where I’d jump in front of a train for any of them or anything, I don’t believe I would, I don’t believe they’d let me.’ Slytherin friendship ficlet.


Authors Note: So I said I wasn't going to write before I finished reading Order of the Phoenix. So sue me. This idea came to me and I absolutely FELL in love with it. And I'm assuming that over 300 pages in one day can hold me over till' tomorrow (or at least till' after I'm finished writing this) right?  
  
Point of view: I didn't want to confuse you guys' and be all fickle. Pansy Parkinson's POV. Her seventh year (as well as Crabbe's, Goyle's and Draco's)  
  
~*~  
  
People have those silly assumptions that they keep all their lives. Silly little things. Dopey things. Especially about friendship. They seem to think that friendship is blindly 'caring' and that friendship is always 'kind' and 'loving' and 'self-sacrificing.' And it is . . . . .  
  
Sometimes.  
  
But not here, here we have a different concept of friendship, although it is nonetheless interesting. 'We' (as in all us Slytherins) believe that friendship is commiserating, friendship is a common bond made no, not on Quidditch, or love of chocolate frogs, but upon a common weakness.  
  
And we Slytherins don't give up our weaknesses any too early.  
  
Crabbe, Goyle, Draco and I know each other. I can seriously say that they are 'my' boys and I love them unconditionally. I'm not blind to their faults. Draco's undeniably selfish and arrogant, Crabbe can't spell for beans (he has such very little intellect on the whole) and Goyle has absolutely no spine. They aren't sweet or amazingly brilliant or anything, but they care about me in a way that before them was unknown to me.  
  
We don't have a friendship like Potter, Weasley, and Granger, and we never have. But that doesn't mean it's right for people to go around assuming that our friendship is based upon "bodyguard" basis, because it isn't. And it never has been. We don't fall into blatant stereotypes like "the smart one" or "the chessman" or "the brave one" I like to think that we're comprised of more substance than that. And I think we are.  
  
I can't remember awful far back, for my memory often fades right before my stone gray eyes. But I remember the day that we met upon Platform 9 and ¾. I had no where else to sit, so I sat next to these three boys, and they didn't like me an awful lot until I said:  
  
"Yes, I'd like to be in Slytherin as well. Would you like a toffee?"  
  
And they laughed that obnoxious laugh and the good-looking blond boy said, "Toffee sounds good. So, your family, purebloods, right?"  
  
It was like that. And we 'bonded'. No one liked us much. Not like we could blame them or anything. We never expected them to like us; we never even wanted them to like us. From that day forward, we were inseparable. And from that day forward, it was us against the world.  
  
I can't sit here and tell you that I fell in love with them upon our first 'meeting', and that I assumed a Motherly air around them, because I really didn't. There's nothing noble about it, I needed someone, anyone, to grasp onto. It was a desperate move, I agree.  
  
I was quite unsure if I liked them at first, I was sort of on the fence about that. Years passed and I decided that I didn't like them, that in fact they were lazy, cocky idiots. But by then, it was too late, by then I had already fallen in love with them.  
  
I'd fallen in love with Draco. Draco who by all accounts was "untouchable." And he was, of course, but he had a soft spot for me. We used to sit on the Hogwarts steps (with Crabbe and Goyle in tow, of course) and drink lemonade.  
  
Funny thing is, the lemonade had vodka in it. We were just fifteen then.  
  
I'd fallen in love with Crabbe. Crabbe, the young man whom I had to tutor continually in every single subject known to wizard. And I did, and I can't say I even enjoyed it, because I didn't. I helped him pass, and he got three O.W.L.S at least, all thanks to me, of course. In return of course, he swore that if I ever wanted someone severely severed he'd be there for me. I never doubted it, actually, I still don't.  
  
I'd fallen in love with Goyle. Goyle, the boy who will literally take directions from anyone with a brain. We had fun times, teasing him and telling him to jump in the freezing cold lake. He always did it too, just to please me. "It's cold," he sputtered.  
  
"No," I said, "it's bloody freezing. But thanks, Gregory, I needed some laughs before Herbology with those rotten Gryffindors."  
  
It was just like that. It wasn't a fairytale type of thing where I'd jump in front of a train for any of them or anything, I don't believe I would, I don't believe they'd let me. It's an unspoken bond. A subtle wink. A slip of vodka in your iced tea.  
  
And at the end of the day, I wouldn't have it any other way.  
  
~*~  
  
La Fin 


End file.
